


this race is a prophecy

by krtrs



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Book 5: The Empty Grave, F/M, Missing Scene, self indulgent as hell, teg spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krtrs/pseuds/krtrs
Summary: “Lockwood? What’sー”"Lucy. Have you seen her?”"I thought she was with you.”
Relationships: Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	this race is a prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from run boy run by woodkid

“Where’s Lucy?” The medic looked at me like I was a raving madman. I didn’t care. “Where is she?”

I spun around, watching the paramedics roll Kipps by on a gurney. People all around me were shouting but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying.

“Sir.” A hand grabbed my arm. “Who are you looking for?”

I tugged my arm away, stumbling back a few steps. “Sir, please.”

“George!” He was standing over by Inspector Barnes, holding his arm to his chest. I strode over to him.

“Lockwood? What’sー”

“Lucy. Have you seen her?”

George shook his head. “I thought she was with you.”

 _Shit._ The last I’d seen her was when the silver-glass pillar had collapsed beside us. After, I’d just assumed she was behind me.

“Do you think she could still be…” George trailed off, eyes drifting back up to the doors of the Fittes House.

“Possibly. Most likely,” I nodded, my stomach dropping to my feet. She was still inside. She had to be. “Yes.”

“Lockwood,” Barnes spoke up with a warning tone. “Don’t.”

But I was already moving, heading over to the trolley full of weapons taken from the basement laboratory. As soon as I got my hands on one of the electrical guns, I was off, shoving my way into the building.

My boots crunched on the glass as I walked into the wreckage. Another pillar had shattered, leaving nine Visitors to get past now. If Lucy and I had gotten split up then there was probably only one way she could have gone. That being further into the building.

Tugging my rapier from my work belt, I continued onwards into the chaos. 

I was immediately greeted by a forceful wind tearing at my clothes. I was pretty sure I heard a seam rip on my shirt but I’d have to deal with that later. Still, it was a nice shirt. Maybe Holly could sew it backー

I ducked as a potted plant was thrown at my head.

“Lucy!” The room was hazy with ghost fog and magnesium smoke.

The first of the spectres to approach was the Gory Girl, crawling limply on the ground, stained nightdress dragging behind it. Reaching out with thin fingers, it aimed to grab my ankle had I not swung my rapier. Recoiling with a hiss, it backed away a few feet.

I made the mistake of looking away for a second and the next thing I knew, it had leapt up and latched onto my sleeve. I pulled away and cursed as I saw the giant rips down my arm. So much for mending this shirt.

I took that as my cue to get away, tripping over shards of glass and bodies of Sir Rupert's lackies as I went. Each time I stumbled upon a person I felt my heart stop. Could one of them be Lucy?

The psychic noise was unimaginable, even for someone as supernaturally deaf as myself. I couldn’t imagine how it felt for Lucy. High pitched ringing echoed all around the foyer, filling my head and making me feel as though I were underwater.

“Luce, where are you?” I shouted over the cackling and screaming.

I watched as Fittes employees ran around the room in varying states of panic. They couldn’t see the ghosts as I could.

The mangled form of Long Hugh Hennratty jumped in a sideways motion, passing right through several employees who quickly dropped to the ground, hearts stopping in an instant from the freezing touch.

Above, the Morden Poltergeist shook the chandeliers so hard that pieces of the ceiling were cracking and falling like rain. I jumped to the side as one started to fall. It landed exactly where I had been previously standing.

Ectoplasm dripped and landed on my shoulder, burning through.

“Damn poltergeists,” I muttered, brow furrowed. I kept moving forward. If Lucy wasn’t one of the corpses on the foyer floor, she had to be somewhere else. She was smart enough to know she needed to get away from the spirits on the first level, meaning she could only have gone up. I needed to get to the Hall of Fallen Heroes.

I turned towards where I remembered the hall was and was met with the eyeless face of the Clapham Butcher Boy a few breaths from mine. How had I not noticed it? I jumped back quickly, holding my rapier out to ward it off. The ghost held up its serrated knife and began creeping closer. As I stepped forward to swing my rapier, glass dug into my frost-covered shoes.

The Butcher Boy wasn’t deterred by my wards, it just kept moving forward. I held up the Fittes gun in my left hand and shot. Soundlessly, the ghost shrank back enough for me to dart past.

I ran through the rest of the foyer. I could see the arch leading to the hall. Behind me, the cold was creeping up my spine steadily. The soft streams of white oozing from the Butcher Boy were reaching out. I spun on my heel and shot the gun again. The ghost winced and seemed to flare its other-light. Still, it made no noise.

I shoved my rapier back in my work belt and held the gun with both hands. I shot again, hitting the ghost square in the chest with the electric blast. Even with a hole through its centre, the Clapham Butcher Boy was relentless.

Two shots. A step back. Another blast. Another step. I needed to get to the elevator.

“Oh _fuck me_ ,” I said and grabbed my last magnesium flare from my belt. I chucked it as hard as I could and turned to sprint into the Hall of Fallen Heroes. If I couldn’t wear it out, I’d just have to outrun it. It’s nice having fans, of course, but I prefer them living.

I skidded to a halt right before I ran into the wall, slipping on paperwork that had scattered to the floor in the panic. To my left, there was a silver elevator door. I pressed the button, readjusting the gun on my arm. I glanced back, ready for an attack. I wasn’t going to make another mistake like I did with the Gory Girl. I tapped my foot impatiently as the lift started its descent. I caught a flash of movement at the end of the hall.

The Butcher Boy had caught up. Seeing me, it sped up, stretching out its knife and slashing next to my head. I ducked and side-stepped to avoid the downswing. I heard the door open with a soft ding and shot off one last blast before practically diving into the lift and repeatedly hitting the close door button.

As the lift started to move, I took a deep breath and let my shoulders relax. I pulled the strap of the electrical gun over my shoulder and let it hang on my side. The elevator was covered with mirrors, revealing just how dishevelled I looked. My shirt was ripped in several placesー I had been right about that earlierー and my trousers were littered with ectoplasm burns. My shoulder was gently steaming from the Morden Poltergeist. It was a wonder I didn’t get ghost touched by the looks of it. Or maybe I had and the adrenaline was preventing me from noticing.

My hair was grey with salt and magnesium from the flare I’d set off and my bangs had flopped down over my eye. I tried to push it back and revealed a cut I didn’t even remember getting. In general, I looked a mess. Normally, I would’ve been more bothered but as it stood, I didn’t have time to worry about it right then.

As the lift came to a stop, I pulled out my rapier and stepped into a small vestibule. The double doors straight ahead had been blown open, and the modern art paintings that I assume had previously been on the walls were scattered on the ground. I stepped forward as I heard a voice.

“I’ve never broken a silver-glass jar before! How did _I_ know how tough they were?” I recognized the northern accent and felt a weight lift off my shoulders.

_Lucy._

She was alive.

I came to the doorway, finally able to see the wreck that was the office space of Marissa Fittes. It looked like a tornado had blown through. I saw Marissa first, looking elegant and graceful as ever. She was smiling. Next to her was a tall, bright Visitor glowing gold. It was so bright, I almost wished I had my sunnies. Was that a crown hovering above it? 

Neither Marissa nor the spirit had noticed me yet.

“Oh, why don’t you just shut up?” I glanced down and finally caught sight of Lucy crouching down behind a couch, hammer and ghost jar in hand. She looked on the verge of tears.

“This,” Marissa said, “is priceless. But all good things must come to an end. Goodbye, Lucy. After you’re dead, I’m going to seek out your companions and watch Ezekiel suck the flesh from their bones. Think of that happening to your darling Anthony as you die.”

I gripped my rapier tighter but kept my stance casual.

“Or,” I said, “we could save us all a lot of trouble, and finish this right here.”

Marissa whirled around and the Visitor next to her flared in anger. Lucy raised her head and I grinned at her.

“Hey, Lucy,” I said. “Having fun?”

“I’m having a lovely time.”

“So I see.” I strode toward them across the carpet, walking carefully through the broken glass and scattered magazines. My eyes stayed on Marissa and the floating ghost, both of which were staring back at me looking unnerved, but I spoke only to Lucy. “Do you need some company?”

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey, thanks for reading! feel free to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!! 
> 
> -karter <3


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